Glyndwr, see thy comet flaming!
Hear a heav’nly voice declaiming,
To the world below proclaiming
‘Cambria shall be free!’
While thy star on high is beaming,
Soldiers from the mountain teeming,
With their spears and lances gleaming,
Come to follow thee.
Hear the trumpet sounding,
While the steeds are bounding!
On the gale from hill and dale
The war-cry is resounding.
Warriors famed in song and story,
Coming from the mountains hoary,
Rushing to the field of glory,
Eager for the fray,—
To the valley wending,
Hearths and homes defending
With their proud and valiant Prince
From ancient kings descending,—
See the mighty host advancing,
Sunbeams on their helmets dancing!
On his gallant charger prancing
Glyndwr leads the way.
Now to battle they are going,
Every heart with courage glowing,
Pride and passion overflowing,
In the furious strife;
Lo, the din of war enrages,
Vengeance crowns the hate of ages,
Sternly foe with foe engages,
Feeding Death with Life!
Hear the trumpets braying,
And the horses neighing!
Hot the strife while fiery foes
Are one another slaying!
Arrows fly as swift as lightning,
Shout on shout the tumult height’ning,
Conquest’s ruddy wing is bright’ning
Helmet, sword and shield;
With their lances flashing,
Warriors wild are crashing
Through the tyrant’s serried ranks,
Whilst onwards they are dashing!
Now the enemy is flying,
Trampling on the dead and dying;
Victory aloft is crying
‘Cambria wins the field!’
John Jones.
